


Flesh

by fatelessfalling



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Game of Thrones - Freeform, Intersex, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatelessfalling/pseuds/fatelessfalling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Yumikuri/Game of Thrones AU. Queen of the Southern isles, Historia Tyrell-Lannister, has been kicked out of her personal Hand of the Queen's torture chamber for 'inappropriate commotion'. With Ymir Bolton worked into a frenzy from Historia's words, how much trouble will the queen be when her husband finally falls asleep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ofhalsen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofhalsen/gifts).



> Let's be honest, it's a Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire AU. Things might end up edging on uncomfortable. In this story, there are mentions of: blood, torture, murder, extreme rough sex, intersex Ymir, and bastardization. Remember to leave some feedback!

It wasn't easy to bide her time within the confines of her chambers. There was something about seeing her personal protector covered in blood and panting over her object of attention had Historia damp and distracted.

Each movement of the Bolton woman's arm stretched taute skin over muscle, as she set forth to get the information out of the man who had come to harm her, made it harder and harder not to break the concentration of the Hand. She was in her place, weaponized flogger pulling out torturous cries as the blonde whispered words of encouragement into her ear.

The only reason she had left in the first place was she knew eventually her king would find her missing, covered in blood and potentially the seed of the Hand, and to shatter the image of the Lannister name was not on the agenda... yet.

Changing out of her royal gown and into something more suited for spending the night alone with her lover, Historia filled her time with a glass of wine and the book her Hand had graciously given to her about the history of the Bolton house - if only she had the ability to concentrate.

Simply thinking of Ymir in the torture chambers caused her to stir in her seat, willing away the uncomfortable wetness that had seeped through her undergarments.  
The sound of the door opening and closing behind her made the Queen smile, her fingers twisting the stem of her wine chalice as if nothing was wrong. "My love, you're late." She said, her voice falsetto, the same one she used when speaking with Reiner when she decided to let him into the chamber to once again 'try' for a heir.

There was no response from her visitor, only the sound of a heavy cloak being cast to the floor, followed by boots and a sword. She was enjoying making her queen wait for her company.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to the needy blonde, a firm body pressed against her before plucking the wine chalice from her hand, "My queen, you find yourself in a dangerous place. To be drinking alone in your chamber asks for monsters to invade and hurt you." The voice husked into her ear, far from the lumbering tenor of her husband.

"Oh? Pray tell, what monsters may get me that are any worse than you?" Historia asked, reaching up to run her fingers through the brown hair of her lover, finding it sticky and stuck together in places. With the strong scent of wine removed, she could smell the heavy metallic scent lingering on her skin. Breathing deeply, she sighed with contentment. Oh, what a twisted fuck she had turned into, and she knew it.

Ymir chuckled dryly as she knelt on to the backless chair, nuzzling into the blonde girl's shoulder and laying a small path of kisses on the sensitive skin before sinking her teeth into the tender juncture of her neck. The keening whine of Historia caused her breath to catch, pressing farther into her back. 

Her tongue gently laved at the torn skin, licking away small specks of blood. "Monsters who would have ripped apart that fancy dress of yours in the chamber and fucked you like a whore," She said, pulling at the ties of Historia's dressing gown. "Leaving you to walk back to my king naked, covered in blood and their seed leaking from between your thighs."

Catching her breath from the harsh bite and Ymir's ever dirty mouth, Historia let a hand drop behind her to find the familiar organ pressed into her back. "It seems the monster and the Hand of the Queen has a lot in common," she nearly purred, rubbing against Ymir's hard cock to earn a groan of her own. "Your pants feel wet... did I do something earlier--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Ymir took Historia's hand from her cock and hair. Pulling the blonde to her feet from behind, Ymir remained out of her eyesight to take her to the large four poster bed that Ymir had become so accustomed to using.

A soft giggle left Historia as she let Ymir lead her, moving to crawl up on the bed before the brunette quickly snapped her arms back behind her, careful not to hurt Historia, only render her helpless beneath her. "Mmm, what a sight... the queen knelt over the bed, supple little ass in the air." Ymir spoke, watching Historia struggle to get her arms back. "Ah, ah, my Queen, don't struggle, you know that only makes it harder." Ymir stepped closer, her cock pressed into Historia's ass through the sheer fabrics of her dressing gown and Ymir's pants.

The blonde knew she wasn't going to be hurt. Ymir had a sick sense of justice when Historia's teasing got too bold, leaving her untaken care of. "But Ymir, I only want to make love to you to make up for my retched behavior," she whined, rubbing back against Ymir in hopes to be released.

"Mm, I don't think so." Ymir said, one hand travelling the silk covered flesh of her lover. "I like you this way, and you don't deserve to get what you ask for." Bunching up the fabric, Ymir's long fingers pressed against the damp cloth covering Historia's modesty, or what was left of it. "Look how wet you are, my queen. Is it from watching me torture that man? Or is it thinking of how badly you wanted me to watch you fuck your husband again?" She asked, a tinge of bitterness lingering in her voice as she leaned over the squirming blonde.

"Ymir, that's not fair," she panted, trying to get the other woman to touch her more. She needed this more than she needed air in her lungs. "Please, Ymir, take me..."

The hand that had been rubbing small circles around her cloth covered clit pulled away, leaving Historia as frustrated as ever. Why she fell for the Bolton bastard, she questioned in moments like this. 

Instead, Ymir grabbed ahold of the fabric and with a quick and powerful yank, ripped the panties from the woman beneath her. "I'll take you when I'm good and ready." She hissed, working at the ties to her pants and sliding them far enough down her thighs for her cock to spring out proudly, hitting Historia's rear in the process.

Historia knew better than to press farther, remaining face pressed to the soft blankets below her as she panted and whined for her lover to finish her after so long without a release.

"Keep your hands behind you." Ymir commanded, waiting a moment before removing her hands from Historia's wrists to ensure she listened. "Good girl."

Both warm, sticky hands ran down her sides, coming over the curve of her ass as one held her still, the other slipped between them to test how wet Historia was. Blood mixed with Historia's slick as she took the opportunity to rub her fingertips quickly over the queen's clit, watching her struggle to keep her hands where they were. It was so easy to torture the Queen with things that felt good. Sex, affection, love. It was something she could do forever.

Moving from her clit, Ymir circled Historia's cunt with one finger, sliding it in to the knuckle with ease, then adding a second one immediately after. "You'd think that you've been starved of sex for months with how wet you are," she taunted, turning her hand to press against the spongy spot on her front wall to hear her moan her name loudly.

"Ymir--" Historia went to move, her hands slipping from her back. The brunette was quick to remove her fingers, her hand coming down hard and harsh against the soft skin of Historia's ass and holding it tightly, earning a loud, pained cry.

"I told you to stay still."

She whined again, waiting for Ymir to soothe the area, and eventually it came, giving her a little relief. "I'm sorry, my love." She cooed, feeling the other hand leave her hips.

Ymir stroked her cock a few times, relieving some of the painful build up that had started hours before. "You'll have no trouble taking me," she said, leaning forward and pressing the head of her cock against Historia's entrance, letting the blonde get used to the idea before she slid in enough to ensure she wouldn't slip out.

The blonde took a deep breath, believing that Ymir's wrath had been sedated for the time being, but oh was she wrong...

Strong hands clasped around her hips, giving her only a second more before she sheathed herself inside of the petite queen in one thrust and started an unforgiving pace. Historia's hands scrambled to find purchase in the covers below her; a moan between pain and pleasure erupting from her lips with every thrust of her lover. 

Her vision blurred as Ymir's fingertips buried into her skin, angling her hips to find that spot with each thrust. 

"You think I enjoy walking in on your fucking that idiot?" Ymir hissed out over the slick sounds of their skin meeting so harshly. "You've never belonged to him," one of her hands released Historia's hip, rubbing down over her stomach.

Historia whimpered, moving back to meet Ymir's thrusts as her affirmations of ownership lingered in the room. 

She never doubted that she belonged with, and to, Ymir. They were made for one another. The Bolton bastard and the Tyrell disgrace. 

"Not now, not ever-- not with my bastard inside you." She leaned over the queen, murmuring directly into her ear. "You're mine, and you will be until the entire world burns."

The blonde reached down to grasp her hand, pressing into the hard little bump under her skin that only they knew about. Their child. Their heir. Despite being punished for being so terrible to her lover, she knew it came out of a place of love.

"Fuck," Ymir cursed, her pace becoming more erratic the closer she got to her end. "This is what you do to me, you damned cock tease," she released Historia's hand, reaching farther down for her clit and running a rapid pace over the sensitive flesh, rendering Historia nearly helpless as her end quickly approached too. "Come for me, my Queen. Don't leave me with out that beautiful moan..."

Historia's entire body went rigid below Ymir, her breath catching as she tumbled into her orgasm, squeezing around Ymir's hard cock mercilessly. "Oh Gods," Ymir groaned, retreating her hand to grasp Historia's hips to keep them up and bury herself to the hilt, bathing her insides with her seed.

Ymir pressed her sweaty forehead to Historia's back as they rode out the tremors of their intense lovemaking, gently rubbing the blonde's body as she came down.

All was quiet for a while, until Historia finally spoke up. "Are you actually mad at me for what happened all that time ago?" It had been more than six months since Ymir caught her and Reiner in bed together - before the idea of them being together ever crossed their minds.

Soft kisses pressed against her spine, Ymir slowly pulled out of her blonde lover with a wince before helping her on to the bed entirely, falling in beside her after. "He's on my personal list. As long as that child in your belly isn't his, then my plans can draw out."

"It is entirely up to you if he lives long enough to find out about our child, or if he remains oblivious to you treating me like your personal whore." Historia said, scooting closer to the dirty brunette woman, finally laying eyes on her since she left her hours before.

"Your grace, that's no--"

"You could torture him in front of me for a wedding present," she said, sighing softly as she settled into the crook of Ymir's arm. They could bathe in a little while. "It's not like he hasn't been sleeping with the Wildling knight of his for the better part of a year."

Ymir let out a heavy breath, wrapping her arm around the Queen. "We'll think about it. Right now, you need to get some rest because this isn't the last time we're going tonight."  
  
Historia smiled, scooting up for a kiss. "Good. I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate a good torture session."


End file.
